the first time
by musicnotes093
Summary: She was running away, and he saved her-even if they were complete strangers. But it was just the first time they'd meet. Leverage and NCIS crossover. Set Leverage Season 3, NCIS Season 7.


**Title:** _"the first time"_

**Rating:** FR13

**Genre:** Crossover, Drama, Fluff, Friendship, Romance

**Pairing(s):** none for now

**Crossover:** NCIS x Leverage

**Summary:** She was running away, and he saved her-even if they were complete strangers. But it was just the first time they'd meet. Leverage and NCIS crossover. Set Leverage Season 3, NCIS Season 7.

**Notes:** _Written for Challenge 15: Secret Agent at Leverage Land , LiveJournal._ I should've posted this months ago, but I was lazy. . . :D Enjoy!

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The only sound she could hear was the light, endless collision of her feet against the pavement. That, and her heart pounding madly against her chest. Her breath advanced and receded from her lips in such a fast rate that her lungs drained rather than supply her of the energy she needed. It was no help that her head had started to spin, either.

She had forgotten how long she had been running. All she could remember was that she nicked the file from the Delgado's office after successfully sneaking inside that heavily-guarded building, and that she sped away as soon as her position had been compromised. She thought for a fleeting moment that she should have asked Nate and the others for help, especially now that the henchmen for the head of the drug cartel hunted her down like rabid wolves.

If she lived through this, she just might, she decided.

What made her brave the notorious group, albeit death, she couldn't really tell. There was a man, about her age, dying in a hospital, she recalled. She saw him during one of their heists, while she was waiting for Eliot's signal. His family was sad about what happened to him, especially his seven year old sister. She tried to overlook what was happening for the sake of their job, but it proved harder to do so when she found out a few hours later that he passed away.

It was heart wrenching, the way they cried. But most of all, it was the feeling of being left behind that bothered her.

However, what got her in the situation she was in was what she discovered. Petty Officer Russ Avery, the deceased, was given a high dosage of morphine on purpose. He died upon the will of Alberto Ramirez, the head of the cartel based there in Oregon and whose business also involves selling human organs. Doctor Kirk Delgado, who owned a small clinic downtown, supplied Ramirez the information he needed in tracking down their victims.

It disgusted her. How could they take another man's life as if it was nothing? She asked many questions, meanwhile thinking of the little girl and her tears that diminished her innocence drop by drop, until it resulted to actions that, when she thinks about it, were rather begrudging and uncalculated.

She continued chasing her breath as if it was the only thing that could save her. They were closing in on her now; she just knew it. Their labored but determined pursuit seemed to get louder and louder. _I need a diversion, _she thought, although she knew that that would be futile now. She sharply veered to the right when she ran across a small crowd of people waiting to cross the street. Hopefully, that would avail her some time.

Yet, briefly glancing back at the _buffoons _struggling to find their way out of the crowd, it gave her not much advantage against them.

She held the folder closer to her chest. She knew Nate would be upset once he finds out—_if _he ever does—that she had taken and created a job on her own, but it didn't matter. At least the people in the file she had would be safe.

Once again, she briefly looked back. They were out of sight. For now. She couldn't help but grin—until she ran against another person. The folder that she held fell with a soft thud on the pavement. Some of the papers inside spilled out. She attempted to shake off the dark clouds blurring her sight as soon as possible while fastening a hand on her head. Her other hand was occupied with rapidly gathering her things together.

The guy he bumped into silently hissed in pain. Lifting up her eyes, she found him irritatingly pulling the coffee-soaked part of his shirt away from his torso. "Not again," he muttered. He stood up, and then turned to her. One thing that immediately stood out to her was his green eyes. He was upset that they collided, but those orbs of his seemed to contradict that thought. "Are you okay, miss?" he asked, offering his hand. "You really have to watch it the next time."

She got up on her feet, disregarding the kindness he extended to her out of skepticism. She couldn't afford to fall into one of Delgado's or Ramirez's associates. So, she regarded him with slight disapproval and suspicion. She scanned her surroundings, making sure that the men running after her wasn't close by and that no one was watching her and this guy.

"Okay…" he lowered his hand. He found her rather rude for ignoring his "peace offering" and for pointedly avoiding any contact, but it was okay. But after a quick and eerie second, he sensed that there was something wrong. "Is everything okay?" he inquired warily.

She heard angered groaning and yelling, and it caused her to step farther away as possible. She wouldn't be able to make it. There were no empty vehicles parked nearby, save for the car that seemed to belong to the idiot she bumped into, and she had no way of contacting Eliot for help.

"Get in the car."

She swiveled towards him with an irritated glare. "What?" she said, only now noticing that he had already opened the back car door for her.

"I said, get in the car," he repeated as he watched the corner sharply.

"No," she said, cautiously sliding her hand in her pocket for her taser.

"Do you want my help or not?" he asked. "Get in the—"

"Ahí está!" one of the men pursuing her shouted. Soon, they were heading to her direction.

She had no chance to begin running again as she was immediately shoved inside the vehicle. "Hey!" she protested while she tried to sit up, but that became useless when he floored the pedal and sped away after he also got in.

Soon, rain of bullets began pelting the car, forcing both of them to duck.

"You might want to stay down," he told her. He veered the steering wheel to the left, causing her to roll towards the opposite door.

"Watch it!" she yelled.

He peered at his rearview mirror to check if those men were going after them. Save for blaring horns from upset drivers and distant wails of police sirens, the streets behind them remained clear. He slowed down after a while, and then pulled up in a parking lot near a fire station. Finally getting the time to do so, he turned towards her, sincerely anxious about her state. "Are you okay?" he asked. "Did you get hurt?"

Reluctantly, she shook her head. She was still suspicious of him, but thinking about what he did for her, she doubted that she should be that at all. And that fuzzy feeling has started to bubble up inside her the more she looked into his eyes. It intrigued her, thus mildly stunning her.

She hated it.

He nodded. "Good," he said, looking nervous all of a sudden. When he had gathered himself together, he asked, "Why were they chasing you, anyways?"

She said nothing.

"Did you con them out of something?" he asked, chuckling, meaning it as a joke.

Impulse bolted through her nerves. She withdrew her favorite weapon. He knew too much. He must be one of those bad guys.

He gazed at her in the mirror, and the answer to his question struck him when he noticed the object she safeguarded. "You did," he said, eyes widening. "That folder. You took it from them. That's why they were chasing…That's why they wanted to kill—" His words were cut short after she stuck the taser to his neck, releasing bolts of electricity to his brain, and ultimately shutting him down.

"You talk too much," she said, gazing at him with ennui. She noticed a few taxi cabs pass by. Perfect. She had lost those goons, and now she had the chance of going back to the headquarters to actually ask Nate and Sophie for help. She dug into his jacket for his wallet and didn't hesitate to take one hundred dollars out of it. "Thanks. I _might _pay you back one day," she muttered.

Before she could close the wallet, his driver's license caught her eyes. Maryland. She smiled crookedly. _Welcome to Boston_, she thought before exiting the car. She hailed a cab as soon as she got out. "McRory's," she told the driver, who gave her a curt nod. She took one last glance at him before the vehicle drove away.

He was still sleeping peacefully, unaware that the person he had saved has left him defenseless and one hundred dollar less. It was rather cruel leaving him like that there, she conceded. She might just ask Hardison to look up information about the man. Maybe she'd go back later on—if he's clean.

After all, she _probably _owed it to that Timothy McGee that she was still alive and running.

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_**Reviews are loved!**_


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